


by the faded orange wall

by morelikeexisting (orphan_account)



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: 2009 Phan, 2018 phan, Ficlet, First Meeting, Fluff, M/M, Manchester, giving the people what they want, who doesn't love 2009 phan?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-29
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:34:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24980023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/morelikeexisting
Summary: There are a few names scattered around on that horrendously orange wall, initials enclosed in hearts.“Can we?” Dan asks, looking up at him through his eyelashes.Phil smiles.( or the one where they meet in Manchester and visit the same place nearly 10 years later )
Relationships: Dan Howell/Phil Lester
Comments: 2
Kudos: 38





	by the faded orange wall

**Author's Note:**

> i really really really really love 2009 phan and it shows.

Phil has been to the Manchester Station a thousand times, and he has seen that ugly wall a thousand times too.

It’s by the vending machine – the one that’s broken half the time, and gives anything other than what you want when it _does_ somehow works – or, perhaps, the vending machine is by the wall. It’s a border, kind of, separating the station from the outside world and coloured an orange; and not the gentle, warm saffron orange, but the deep, hideous and fluorescent orange that sticks out from the bland and monochromatic colours it’s surrounded by, and that hurts your eyes when you look too long at it.

But Phil’s not too bothered this time. No, he has bigger things on his mind.

He leans his back against that hideous wall and holds his phone in his palms. There are no recent texts, so he just looks at his reflection in his phone screen and fixes his fringe again and again.

Then, finally, there’s an announcement. The train from Reading pulls up at the station. Phil’s hands are trembling and his heart is in his throat as there’s a flurry of movement. The station is flooded.

His phone chimes:

 **_Dan:_ ** _phil? where are you??_

Phil doesn’t know whether he would throw up or squeal. Both, perhaps.

 **_Phil:_ ** _I’m near the vending machine, by the orange wall._

There are hundreds of people milling around the station, lugging their suitcases or getting on trains or getting down from them. There are hundreds of people where Dan could’ve been lost in, but Phil’s eyes find the familiar burnet before his mind registers.

Dan spots him then too, and his eyes light up.

Phil feels something swirl in the bottom of his stomach, something pleasant. Dan barrels forward, his hand clutching his sling back and his grin brighter than the wall behind Phil, but so, so beautiful that Phil almost couldn’t look at him. He runs across the people and staright into Phil's arms. And Phil thinks: looking at Dan is like looking at the sun, and holding him is like having the whole world in your palms until you’re breathing – more than just _breathing_ – until you’re _living,_ and wondering whether you’re on their mind too.

“You’re real,” Dan whispers, his head against Phil’s neck, and his breath ticking his skin “You’re actually real.”

Phil chuckles, moves back a little. Dan’s eyes are wet. But then again, Phil’s eyes are too. “You’re beautiful,” Phil says, his words ringing with sincerity. Dan’s cheeks fill with warm, and Phil feels warmer. He feels like he is 13 year old again, giddy with the feelings for his first crush. Except this time, the feelings are realer than anything he has ever felt before. There’s no one who has made him feel like he’s at home. There’s no one he looks at and sees his whole future with; dogs, kids and a cosy home.

There are a few names scattered around on that horrendously orange wall, initials enclosed in hearts.

“Can we?” Dan asks, looking up at him through his eyelashes.

Phil smiles.

_fast forward_

It’s 2018. There’s a video they are supposed to shoot. They could’ve chosen any video, honestly, but Phil knows that they both wanted to visit Manchester again, more for nostalgia and memories than for the video.

“We’re here,” Dan says, when they step on the platform.

That’s the widest Phil has ever seen him smile, and he hasn’t seen him so at peace since the tour preparations started. It’s been a hectic few months of planning and rehearsing and shooting videos. They had forgotten how difficult it was. And it didn’t get any easier the second time around. But Phil’s okay. He has everything he has wanted. He has Dan, who still fits in his arms even though they both are a little taller, and a little wider

“Look,” Dan gasps, his fingers pointing at the familiar wall.

It’s not so bright anymore, the paint chipped at some places. The vending machine is gone, after years of breaking and _kind of_ doing its work. But that’s not what Dan is pointing at.

By the faded orange wall, is ‘ _d+p’_ scribbled within a heart.

( Not visible unless you know where to look, but still there. )

Phil smiles.

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed!


End file.
